Special Training Wheel of Destiny — Morimens

Even without the memories of your life before this point, your underdeveloped muscles clearly indicate that you were never the type to love sports or violence. You really can't understand why Mythag set such high and comprehensive combat standards for Investigators. Shouldn't the focus of an Investigator lie in the word "investigation"—in a sharp mind, rigorous logic, and a bit of well-timed luck? Every time Ramona dragged you out of your warm bed in the dormitory on time, and you stood on the empty drill ground facing wave after wave of attacks, you missed Professor Doll's sarcastic logic classes more than ever. Even piles of homework and the most hair-raising exams were far gentler than the pain of being beaten and falling repeatedly during combat training. On the 19th attempt, you lost your balance under the relentless pressure of the rapier that blocked all your escape routes and fell flat on your back, feeling as if every bone in your body was about to shatter. Gasping for breath, you wiped the sweat from your forehead in frustration and absolutely refused to get up again. Ramona showed no surprise at all. She executed a graceful flourish with her sword and sheathed it, her heels clicking crisply as she walked toward you. You shut your eyes tightly, determined to brace yourself for all kinds of scolding and criticism. Surprisingly, no blows or insults came. After three seconds, you opened your eyes again and saw only a faint smile right in front of you. Ramona slightly bent down, her gloved hand extended toward you. "You've actually tried really hard, I know. But what we face is always the unknown fear and danger. Even I have moments of unexpected oversight." "Just to make me feel a little more at ease, let's try one more time, partner."